


Games

by Jamjar88



Category: Pearl Jam
Genre: M/M, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:35:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26863762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jamjar88/pseuds/Jamjar88
Summary: Another Eddie/Stone slash request from Tumblr...
Relationships: Stone Gossard/Eddie Vedder
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Games

It’s another endless night, black sky broken only by the passing beams of lonely trucks, the almost empty freeway stretching on. The bus is chaos by now after a few weeks, books and clothes and cables everywhere, the little TV in the back cutting in and out of service, constantly on. Last time I checked we were somewhere outside of Phoenix. 

I’m pretty drunk. Earlier McCready talked everyone into one of his weird-ass drinking games - “Screw Your Neighbor”, he picked it up on the Soundgarden crew bus back in Dallas. Card games confuse the shit out of me, especially when there’s alcohol involved, so I backed out after one round. Also I was sitting next to Dave, and so the idea of screwing my neighbor wasn’t too appealing to me. I was just trying not to think about who I wouldn’t mind screwing; trying not to notice Stone, his hair pulled back like that making his face stand out more, the shade of stubble on his jawline and that pretty mouth of his. We haven’t been alone together a long time. Or maybe, we just didn’t wanna confront exactly what’s going on between us.

Stone had to drag Mike to his bunk at some point because he somehow kept getting the lowest card and chugging from a bottle of tequila; not long after, Jeff and Dave went to pass out too. It’s only me and Stone left, among the debris of cans, ashtrays and scattered playing cards. 

“So you wanna keep playing?”he says.

I look at him. I know what that tone means. Like, he’s laughing at me, some joke only he gets. But also like he has something in mind. 

“Well, I don’t really wanna die tonight, so… I’m good.”

He’s shuffling the cards back together. I can’t stop watching his long fingers, the way they move.

He doesn’t look at me, just says neutrally, “How about a different game?”

Oh man.

“Yeah, like what?” 

Trying not to seem like I give a shit, but… damn, he’s so fucking sexy, in a way I can’t deny. And I’ve busted my ass to put it out of my mind, those times we stayed up all night when we were rooming together in Europe, totally killing ourselves the whole next day with the exhaustion - and the way it’d be on stage after that, this insane energy passing between us, almost as good as fucking. 

But I don’t want to forget. I want him, every single way. And it’s been too damn long now.

Stone puts down the cards carefully, gets up and goes to the little door that separates the back off from the rest of the bus. The only sounds from outside are loud snoring from the bunks, the driver’s radio way up front. He shuts the door then pulls the lock across, slowly wanders over to the couch next to me. 

Then he hesitates - before leaning in, saying close to my ear: “First one to make a noise loses”, his hand slipping under the edge of my shirt, gently running over my abs. I can feel the callouses on his fingertips, and at his touch the rush of need goes straight through me like fucking electricity. 

I nod, once. But I’m not gonna make a noise. I’m not gonna let Stone win at anything: does he not get that? 

I look at him, holding eye contact, trying to control my breathing. We both know it was gonna happen sometime, neither of us can keep away from it for too long. I don’t know what it is with us; I’m nothing like him, a lot of times I don’t understand the guy at all. But the tension there between us, 99.9% of the time, just makes it hotter.

His hand is moving across my chest under my shirt, his other hand in my hair now, tangling it, pulling me in to brush his lips against mine. _Fuck._ I’m not gonna break this easy, even as his tongue runs over my bottom lip, slips into my mouth. His taste, the feel of his skin, everything I've been thinking about for months now. Without breaking the kiss I reach down, my fingers just below the waistband of his jeans. I feel him gasp a little against my mouth. Yeah, I know exactly how to get him. I slowly undo them, ghosting my fingertips over his straining boxers, as he roughly tugs at my hair to pull my mouth back from his. 

He bites his lip, clearly trying to control his breathing, his green eyes half closed, then pushes me back on the couch that runs along the back window of the bus. He pulls my shirt right up and I feel his mouth move over my stomach and chest, licking and kissing, his teeth grazing over my nipples and making me tense as I try not to make a sound. His hands on my hips, moving inwards, slipping inside the waistband of my boxers. I screw my eyes shut, not wanting to look at him, trying to think of anything else to distract myself from the softness of his tongue on my skin, the brush of his hair against my stomach and his hands moving closer to my dick - but then his mouth is on mine again, and his body presses hard against me, his erection grinding into mine. 

I push up against him and grab the back of his head, pulling him in to kiss him harder. He moans into my mouth; and I break off to look at him. 

He just grins, shakes his head like, _no way._

I trail my hand down then reach inside his boxers, making contact with his dick. He exhales, his eyes flickering, doing everything he can not to make a sound. I sit up, push him back and suck my thumb into my mouth, keeping eye contact with him, before using it to tease the head of his cock, my fingers gripping him hard. He throws his head back, fuck he’s so hot. And even hotter is the fact that I’m gonna win this. 

I move my mouth to his neck as I keep teasing him with one hand, sucking the skin just below his ear, as I start to pump him harder. 

“God, yes” he whispers, his beautiful face screwing up like it does sometimes on stage, when he’s caught up in it.

Knew it. I smile against his neck, moving closer to his ear, brushing it with my lips, saying softly, “You giving up?” 

Stone shivers, before grabbing my neck and pulling me in to kiss me hard, as I work him faster, breaking away to murmur against my lips, “Fuck you,” as his hand moves down to my shorts, and he grasps my dick now, working me hard and insistently. 

He’s too fucking good at this, and I start to lose concentration, my own movements faltering as I breathe hard, trying not to make another sound - but it’s no use as a groan escapes my lips. 

“No, _you’re_ giving up,” he says quietly as I press against him, unable to focus on anything except what he’s doing. I screw my eyes shut and buck my hips into him. “Tell me how much you want it right now. You’re fucking obvious, Ed.” 

I catch his mouth with mine to shut him up and bite down on his lip, making him moan a little, and I try to take hold of him again but he shoves my hand away, never stopping his movement. I feel closer to the brink every second but I’m not gonna give him the satisfaction; I’m not gonna beg for it, no matter how bad Stone wants to be in charge all the god damn time. He pulls away roughly, his eyes on me.

”Say you want it,”

I focus on my breathing, on the intense feelings building in my whole body, the sensation of his fingers moving up and down, rubbing over the weeping head of my dick. I’m so, so close. 

Then, he stops - and I open my eyes, panting, to see him watching me, his hands clasped tightly together now, his eyes hazy, lips parted. Both of us totally insane with it, but not wanting to lose anything. 

Just then a noise from the other side of the door brings us both back. 

“Why is this fucking door locked?!?” 

Mike, still totally out of his mind. Stone quickly does up his jeans and I breathe out hard, rake my hand through my hair to try and compose myself, aware of the throbbing hard-on in my shorts. I pull my legs up to my chest on the couch to try and cover it as Stone gets up shakily and opens the door.

Mike stumbling in. “Water… I need… water”, as he swings open the mini fridge and scrabbles inside, before sitting down on the floor and leaning back against it, cradling the Evian like a baby as he closes his eyes.

I glance at Stone, who’s still on the other side of the room, his arms folded, his chest rising and falling fast. He can’t help laughing a little at the ridiculousness of the fucking situation and I crack a smile. The ache in me like crazy.

I don’t care how or where - when we get to Irvine, it’s on.


End file.
